


Bodies in Berlin

by MissCorn



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bodyguard Romance, Business Trip, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, POV Alternating, POV Kala Dandekar, POV Wolfgang Bogdanow, Protective Wolfgang Bogdanow, Protectiveness, Shameless Smut, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, enough tags for now i don't want to spoil anything else
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 01:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15256689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCorn/pseuds/MissCorn
Summary: When Kala arrives in Berlin for a business trip, there's a bodyguard waiting for her in her apartment.It's Rajan's idea and although she hates being constantly followed, she grows to like the guy.





	Bodies in Berlin

**Author's Note:**

> First time actually trying to write a plot. Oh god. I'm telling you, this is going to go pretty smoothly, as I'm not acquainted with anything that 1. isn't a short story <8000 words and 2. isn't entirely porn.

 

_“If you insist,” Rajan said with a sigh, a defeated look in his eyes, “you are the best candidate after all…” he continued trying to excuse his fiancée’s decision in his mind._

Kala knew her husband-to-be wouldn’t displease or go against her, especially before the wedding, feeling kind of guilty for stepping on his trust and patience to get herself a temporary ticket out of this. Originally, their wedding was arranged to happen three weeks from now and the business trip to Berlin pushed the date at least four months back, offering her a chance to get away for a while, be by herself and clean her mind.

That freshly opened spot in the company’s research center in Berlin was practically begging to be applied for and it didn’t take her long to persuade Rajan that she was the most suitable person for the position. Still, the reason behind why she felt the need to get away or, more correctly, _run_ away was purely instinctive, as she chose to put it, but the deeper meaning she refused to admit even to herself. Rajan is a good guy, her parents love him and every woman she knows would go to great extents to be in her position. She should be thankful, right?

“…for you, miss?” a polite voice interrupts her thinking.

“Sorry, what?” she asks, blinking a few times before smiling and focusing her attention on the air hostess standing by her seat.

“Can I get you anything; something to drink or eat?” her petite voice shows she’s practiced those questions a million times, but she still manages to sound as if she truly cares about each and everyone’s specific needs on this airplane.

“No, thank you,” she answers kindly and the young woman straightens her back ready to move to the front row of seats.

“Uhm, how long till the landing?” Kala stops her midway.

“One hour, give or take.”

Kala nods, thanking her, and turns her attention out of the oval window by her side. Clouds appear so peaceful from above, so sugary soft and pure, yet from below they hide the sun, dark and full of anger. They remind her of her life, how she feels and what she chooses to show others; so calm on the outside, yet so troubled and full of conflict on the inside. She wonders if leaving was the right decision and as she sees the beautiful reds and pinks and oranges of the sunset being reflected on the sea of clouds underneath her, she knows she did.

Not two hours later, she’s already on her way to her new apartment. Rajan had told her there would be a chauffeur waiting for her at the airport, and when she finally found her luggage and entered the waiting area she was met with a small crowd of family members, kids and couples waiting impatiently for their loved ones. The young woman before her ran into the arms of her girlfriend, her bag falling from her shoulder as she jumped into her embrace, hugging and kissing her senseless. She was embarrassed for staring and surely her cheeks were flushed red, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of them. Would she ever feel that way about her future husband?

She looked around searching for a hint as to who was here to pick her up. A tall man with short trimmed blonde hair was holding a cardboard with her name printed on it and she walked towards his direction. He greeted her with politeness making sure she was the one, but his tone was cold. Of course, it was. He was just here doing his job.

The temperature here is at least ten degrees lower compared to Mumbai and she’s glad she remembered to carry a lightweight sweater in her handbag, and still, even now in the car, she shivers a few times but refuses to switch on the AC. If she starts wearing her winter clothes in September, by December she’ll be working from home. As she enjoys the view from her window, she wishes she had arrived earlier, that way she’d have been able to use her ride from the airport as a quick tour of Berlin. Now, she can only see the buildings surrounding the streets in which Max is driving at the moment and only the general outline of the city. Max is the chauffeur.

Out of nowhere, Max slows down and stops the car. “We’re here, miss,” he announces turning to look at her from his driver’s seat before he gets out, opening the trunk and getting her luggage out. She hears the little wheels of her suitcase connect with the pavement and opens her door. The first thought that passes Kala’s mind is that all the buildings look copy-pasted. The yellow light from the streetlamps echoes in every wall, hiding the real colors of the houses, and she hopes that at least in the daylight they’ll be different, because otherwise, she won’t be able to orientate her way around here.

“Wolfgang is waiting upstairs,” Max says simply and hands her a pair of keys. She reaches for the keys numbly, her reaction frozen.

“ _Wolfgang_?” Is that a person or a pack of wolves waiting for her upstairs? Is she staying with a roommate in a shared apartment? What kind of name is Wolfgang?

“Your _bodyguard_?” he replies with a confused look. He clearly thought she knew. Well, she didn’t!

It takes her a minute to fully wrap her mind around his words. “My _what_?”

A bodyguard? Since when? Why is she hearing about this only now? Why does she even need a bodyguard for? Why is he already upstairs? Apparently, Max has no idea what to say to that, and just stands there, staring at her awkwardly, watching the questions form in her head. She notices and controls herself for a moment. She’ll have time to deal with Wolfgang _and_ Rajan later!

“Thank you for the ride, Max,” she says in a hurry, her reaction shifting momentarily to a staged smile and doesn’t wait for a reply as she turns her back to go up the few steps in front of the door he pointed her at before, angrily dragging her suitcase. As the door shuts behind her, she looks at the pair of keys in her, despite the cold weather, sweaty palm. The second key is a little longer and more complicated than the one she used to open the entrance door and she runs her pointer over its cuts, spotting a “2B” carved in its bow. Her eyes search the spacey room for an elevator, but there isn’t one. Only long stairs leading to higher floors. _Great._

As she goes up the old stairs step by step, bumping the nosing of every tread with the backside of her bulky suitcase, she thinks about her bodyguard, making weird faces from the confusion, but thankfully there’s no one around to judge. Is he going to be a huge, bald guy who wears suits and sunglasses all the time like in every stupid american movie? Oh God, she hopes not. That would be such a cliché, not to mention an embarrassment. Will he follow her around all the time? She cringes at the thought alone.

By the time she reaches the second floor, where the key indicates her apartment will be, she has worked through every cliché and every possible scenario of how he’s going to be. But no theory can be verified unless she opens the door right in front of her.

She’s breathless and waits a brief amount of time to slow her crazy beating heart down before entering and she notices there are no more stairs. Weird. The building looked taller from the outside. A moment later, she hesitantly inserts the key in the lock, rotating it two times anticlockwise, listening as something inside the lock turns and clicks, and the door swings open with a creak.

Silence. There’s a dim light coming from under what seems to be the kitchen cabinets at the right side of the apartment, and she can barely see some of the furniture’s silhouettes. She lifts her suitcase over the little bump of the doorframe and drops it with a loud thud on the wooden floor, searching for the light switches.

“Here, let me hel-”

Kala’s sudden scream cuts off the man’s voice coming from behind the door, and she jumps back, holding a hand over her mouth, almost falling on a little table by the door.

“Sorry, sorry, here,” he says and reaches for a switch by the little table, turning the lights on, revealing both the rest of the apartment and himself.

“You startled me,” she manages to say with a low voice, sounding a little pissed off, and looks at him for the first time.

His hands are up in a protective posture as if he’s calming down a skittish animal and he’s so much more different than what she expected. A few long seconds pass and she relaxes at how simple-looking he is and her breathing evens out. Well, simple, but not _ordinary_. As her eyes dart over his features she thinks he’s still kind of _beautiful_ actually _,_ in a completely non-romantic way of course. Short, dirty blonde hair sticking up every which way from his head, a few days old stubble covering his square jaw and kind, grey-blue eyes eyeing her every move.

He takes a step back and offers to shake her hand, "I’m Wolfgang,” he introduces himself. His voice is not that deep, but it’s hoarse and his german accent bleeds through every word. She accepts and reaches for his hand, his grip warm and firm, “Kala.”

“Yes, of course, Ms. Rasal. I spoke with your husband,” he continues and the need to correct him is eating her from the inside.

“No, no, he’s- he’s only my fiancé, so- just Kala, please,” She awkwardly huffs a little smile and feels like this shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did. He just nods to her statement.

“So, tell me,” she pauses. Is she going too fast? Hell! She’s not on a date with the guy. He’s working for her, well, actually, he’s working for _him_. “What exactly did Mr. Rasal ask you to do?” she continues more seriously.

“Well, I assume everything you talked about together, but I don’t mind going over them once more, now that you’re actually here.”

Nothing could be further from the truth. Another person that believes she agreed to this.

She follows him as he crosses the apartment casually, a sign that he had the time to adjust, heading towards what looks like the living room and she gets a glimpse of the entire place. It’s a minimalistic one-room space, giving off a warm vibe with mostly wooden furniture in walnut hues and some fake plants scattered around for decoration. The kitchen on her right has the same wooden cabinets as well as an island counter with some plain bar stools, and all come to a halt where the fridge stands, and- wait. There’s also a door, almost completely hidden behind the entrance and she wonders if maybe that’s where Wolfgang came from in the first place. With a quick glance around the room, she mentally notes that there are no more doors, but there are a couple windows facing her, a wide one above the kitchen sink and one in the living room.

Wolfgang sits on the soft fabric corner sofa in the middle of the room, leaning forward with his elbows on top of his knees and Kala joins him. A coppery rug is splayed on the floor and a too thin of a television is hanging from the beige wall in front of them. There’s also a fireplace in the corner and it’s the first thing that causes her to smile, making her giggly inside. In Mumbai, they never needed one, let alone _own_ one, but here it makes absolute sense. When she turns to face Wolfgang, a small staircase behind him catches her eye and it explains the lack of more rooms on _this_ floor just fine.

“So,” he begins, eyes wide and truthful as he explains the details of their arrangement and she can’t ignore the feeling of safety growing inside her around this man. Maybe it’s his posture or his broad shoulders. Maybe the low burning fire in his eyes or the certainty he radiates when he speaks, but for once she must admit Rajan made an excellent choice. Even if that choice was behind her back and without her consent.

“ _Anywhere_?” she asks with sadness and disbelief after he mentions that he’ll be escorting her to her _every_ day-to-day activity, including her job and any meetings held outside the research center. He nods in agreement and she takes a deep breath, feeling trapped once again, as if her father just told her that she was allowed to go out, but her curfew was 9 o’clock.

He must have noticed the sudden change in her mood and obvious uneasiness, “Are you okay?" he asks and cocks his head to the side, studying her.

Her lips quirk in a half-smile, “Yeah, just tired…” she lies, and somehow knows his eyes have seen enough lying to recognize the truth, but he doesn’t pry.

“Well, it’s getting late and after the flight it’s completely understandable,” he straightens his back and pushes himself up, “the upper floor is all yours and I,” he makes a small pause, “will be behind _that_ door in case you need me,” he concludes, pointing at the door next to the fridge.

Kala does _not_ understand and stands up doubtfully, “What- what does that mean?”

There’s puzzlement in his eyes and he hesitates, “I’m _living_ here. Mr. Rasal was very strict about that.” His voice is soft as if he understands something is off.

“ _Here?_ ” her panicked voice echoes through the room and then silence follows, her expression shifting to pure blankness.

Consumed by thoughts of caged lab animals, shrinking rooms and prisoners, she numbly walks away. She thinks she hears Wolfgang say something, but her ears are buzzing and she’s already making her way up the stairs, too late to turn around. The energy has been drained from her body and if she wasn’t entirely tired before, she is now.

*       *       *

“Kala?” there’s no response as she turns and walks away leaving him standing there and he calls her name once again, “Kala!”

He listens as her steps disappear, her suitcase and handbag neglected by the door and he wonders if maybe he should take them upstairs, but decides against it. Instead, he rolls them in front of the stairwell in case she comes down.

He has a bad feeling about this. He can _sense_ it. He recoils to his room, undressing mechanically, till he is left only in his boxer shorts and quickly climbs on the bed, but when he lies down, his mind is racing. What just happened? She clearly had _no_ idea what they had agreed on and he’s almost certain when he switched those lights on, it was her first time seeing his face as well. He stares at the ceiling and holds his breath, making minimum noise as he tries to catch any audible sounds from upstairs. Again, nothing. He reminds himself that he’s not getting paid to care and that _maybe_ he’s just reading too much into this. He stares the ceiling a while longer, chewing on his lower lip, before turning to his side, pushing all thoughts aside.

Throughout the night he dreams vaguely of wounded dark brown eyes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback would be EXTREMELY appreciated. We're all learning from each other hereee <3
> 
> P.S. I normally write longer chapters, shall I continue with this length or upgrade to maybe 3,500-4,500 words?


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